Page 35 of The Magic of Vanaheim

“Her name was Jökull, a great serpent of the sea. They took on a raiding party of theÆsirin the summer before you came to attack Saeborg. Jökull laid waste to a hundred of their ships before she plunged from the sky. Uncle survived. The skalds sing of their deeds in all the halls of Vanaheim.”

How was Håkon to tell if this was the truth? Talvinen sounded genuine enough, but he could be making this whole story up just as well. Maybe he was even making fun of Håkon’s ignorance.

“The songs about his deeds haven’t yet reached Jotunheim,” Håkon replied, unable to keep a hint of anger out of his voice. This conversation reminded him far too much of his position at his father’s court. There were no family ties he could draw on, and no one interested in sharing their valuable knowledge with him. In the vital currency of information, Håkon had never had anything to trade with, and his peers had made him feel that—sometimes even equating his lack of access to exclusive knowledge with stupidity. Håkon had always had to rely on his skills as a warrior to keep himself alive.

“Bergelmir only wants his own praise sung, huh?” Talvinen said, surprising Håkon with the gentleness his words were spoken with.

“As it is the king’s privilege.”

“If you ask me, it is a weak king if he can’t honor those who fight for him.”

Håkon didn’t have an answer for that. He was saved from having to reply by the door bursting open and Gudrun rushing inside with a tray of food. She wore practical breeches and a gray tunic, nothing fit for a noblewoman but way too good for a thrall either. But the most important thing was that she seemed unharmed, with no bruises showing on her face and her movements unhindered. Håkon sighed in relief.

“Your breakfast,” Talvinen said and jumped to his feet. “Take your time. I have duties to attend to. You can accompany me next time if the inspection of ships and the storage of grain piques your interest.”

“Y–Yes,”Håkon stuttered. Surely Talvinen wasn’t really offering him to see anything of importance. Perhaps his true intention was rather to display Håkon like the spoils of a spring raid.

“It would be my pleasure to show you your realm,” Talvinen said without a hint of sarcasm.

His realm.Håkon suppressed a burst of laughter. The boy was an excellent liar, better suited to rule than Håkon.

Walking over to him, Talvinen leaned down, their faces only inches apart.

“May I?”

Håkon nodded, a strange giddiness bubbling in his chest. The peck to his lips was featherlight and chaste, and yet it stole Håkon’s breath away.

“Keep my husband company for a while, will you, Gudrun?” Talvinen asked, leaving.

“As you wish, my lord.”

Silence filled the royal chambers after Talvinen had closed the door behind his back. Gudrun just stared at him. She recovered after a few breaths, setting the tray down carelessly and rushing over to crush Håkon in a hug.

“Freyja’s tits, are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Gudrun was already pulling down the sheet Håkon had wrapped around his chest to inspect him for injuries.

“Gudrun!”

“What? I’m not taking your word for it. I have to see for myself that you’re well.”

Batting her hands away, Håkon stood up to go looking for his clothes even if he didn’t fancy putting the wedding gown back on. It was nowhere to be seen, anyway. Had Talvinen tidied up after him?

Menace that she was, Gudrun just watched him stumbling around naked, searching in vain for something to wear.

“You look all right,” she concluded finally. “Well fucked, even.”

Håkon glared at her. It did nothing to dissuade her.

“He had the servants prepare a bath for you. It’s next door.” She gestured lazily toward another set of doors, leading further into the labyrinth that were the royal chambers. How did theVanirfind their way around this stone maze?

Stomping over to the adjoining room, Håkon’s annoyance was replaced by wonder as he entered the bathing house again. The stone fortresses of theVanirwere spectacular. But Håkon had never seen anything as luxurious as this bath: built high in a tower, the colorfully tiled pool could easily accommodate a dozen men, and the water was steaming warm without having to use a hot spring.

Gudrun followed him with the food. “YourVanris certainly not stingy with his affection.”

“He’s not mine,” Håkon answered petulantly.

Splashing into the pool, he tried to gather his thoughts. He was so relieved Gudrun was alive and well, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about her seeing him like this. It made him flustered and, at the same time, weirdly… proud.Look, this is my husband. Can you see? He adores me. He desires me. He treats me like a king.